


Nocturne

by HoneyButterYum



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Adorable Connor, Aquariums, Badass Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Bioluminescence, Case Fic, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) is In Denial About Deviancy, Connor Glows, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Sex, Fluff, Hank Anderson Hates Androids, Human/Monster Romance, M/M, Merdroid Connor, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Security Guard Hank, Technically?, also connor makes dolphin sounds for a while, but not for long ;), don’t judge me it’s cute, is he a monster though i mean, mermaid au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-06 06:40:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20502548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneyButterYum/pseuds/HoneyButterYum
Summary: He couldn’t look away, the creature lit up by a moonbeam as it gazed—somber, almost—out the large windows to the lake beyond. Gentle waves lapped against its mechanical fins and tail that pulsed with a soft blue glow, everything about it quiet, still, artificial. Then, slow, it turned its head back to him, a smile growing on its too-human face.Hank forgot how to breathe.





	1. That Which Lurks

**Author's Note:**

> Whew this has been a wonderful experience!! I'm so proud of all the work everyone has put into this event and even with all the ups and downs, this has been an awesome first RBB for me! 
> 
> Special thanks to Fearhoodie for putting up with me (you are an awesome partner! Thank you so much for all your hard work :D I can't wait to finish this with you!) and drawing the artwork that inspired this fic, find her and her art here: https://fearhoodie.tumblr.com/post/187650817785/its-finally-here-the-hankcon-reverse-big-bang  
https://www.instagram.com/p/B2SWwXroX4T/?utm_source=ig_web_button_share_sheet
> 
> Link to other fics and artwork from the 2019 HCRBB!: https://hankconrbb.wordpress.com/

The glass loomed over him, the underground viewing area’s black floors and walls rippling with a hypnotic cerulean glow as light filtered through the water of the tank. It wasn’t the same as all the other tanks—calling this one massive was an understatement, the glass walls reaching so far around he couldn’t see the other side. 

And when Hank looked at his reflection, his palm against the shimmering glass, something moved on the other side, something that wasn’t a mirror image of himself.

Hank drew in a deep breath. 

The reflections of bodies moved back and forth behind him, the last round of people before the aquarium closed for the night, and children dashed past, giggling with their hands wet from playing with fake coral and fish in interactive pools. 

Something flickered on the other side of the glass.

Minutes passed and near-closing time turned to closing time, the bustle of the aquarium dwindling down to a low murmur like the push and pull of a blanket of water—back and forth, something like that, while the light from the top of the tank turned from gold to orange. 

At the floor of the tank, between craggy rocks and towering stems of seaweed, something flickered, then pulsed into a bright blue glow.

A reflection too close to his startled Hank from his trance, and he spun around to his new boss’s outstretched hand. 

“Hank, welcome aboard.” Hank took the hand of his boss—a man you couldn’t tell the age of just by looking at him, his head as shiny and smooth as the glass in his aquarium and his handlebar mustache trimmed to almost exact millimeters. “I  _ see _ you’re a very punctual man.”

Hank fought to keep his smile straight as he ignored the pun, and, of course, the irony, considering his last job. “Mike. Glad to, uh, be here.” He let his hand fall to the side, the tips of his fingers gliding against the tank’s glass. “I hope I’m not too early for you.”

Mike shook his head and patted his hand on Hank’s shoulder. Hank tried not to shy away from the buddy-buddy nature of it. “Nah, right on time. C’mon, lemme show you around.” He waved for Hank to follow before leading him away from the main viewing tank, taking him down twisting corridors with little plaques that had the images and names of creatures inside the small tanks embedded in the walls. All the while, Mike explained how the aquarium worked during the night shift, its quiet nights a little less peaceful than others, the sounds of frogs and other nocturnal animals building up their crescendo as Mike and Hank made their way up the steps to the main floor.

“As for the main floor,” Mike said, waving his hand around the open area, the glass ceiling perhaps almost nonexistent for how high it came off the ground, “we have our usual pools with dolphins and a little beluga or two, our sectioned-off corners of the floor for fish from different parts of the world, and of course exhibits for the guys and gals and all others to check out that tend to change monthly, or bi-monthly, or however much people want it up.”

They walked along the glass barrier of that massive tank, the water’s surface lapping at the cement shoreline where sea lions would usually heft themselves out of the water. But Hank hadn’t seen any sea lions swimming about the tank.

“What’s in this one, anyway?” Hank scanned the water with squinted eyes as though it’d help him see through to the dark depths of the pool. “Seems too big of a tank to just fill it with a handful of tropical fish.”

At that, Mike hesitated and linked his hands together before drawing in a short breath. 

This couldn’t be good.

“I wanted to talk to you about that, actually.” Mike motioned toward the water, and Hank swore he saw dark, glowing eyes beneath it, staring straight at him. “We’ve been upping security these past few weeks because a buncha intruders keep stealing parts from out maintenance area, and some have even been able to snag an actual ‘droid or two.”

There it was. Hank fought the urge to scowl, the sparseness of the gigantic tank now understood: the inorganic main attractions were powered off. “Just the…. Uh, what are they called?”

Mike shook his head. “I’ve just been calling ‘em merdroids for the hell of it, man; they’re pretty wacky, huh?” He let out a soft burst of laughter that Hank didn’t mimic.

“Right. Mer…droids.” Hank averted his gaze, turning his attention back to the water as a tight ball of nausea rose up between his lungs. “So just them? No one’s stolen any actual, um, animals?”

“Nope. Thank God for that though—I’ve got some pretty rare species in here!” Mike glanced around the floor as far as he could see, as though mentally checking off the roll call of his creatures. Then, he spun to Hank with a broad grin. “And that’s where you come in, champ. I’ve got all that other sh—stuff figured out,” and here Mike leaned on the glass railing and stared down into the abyss, “but I’ve been putting off giving these guys the proper security, despite their…expenses.” 

Hank didn’t have to wonder why. “No reason to hide the truth,” he said as he tapped the railing, trying not to meet those glowing eyes again. “I understand giving the newbie the least-wanted job.”

“Ah, right! You used to be a cop, huh?” Mike tapped his temple and winked, as though he was sharing a closely-guarded secret. “Loads of superiority in there. Glad you understand.” He pushed away from the railing and folded his arms in front of himself. “Well! Doing is better than telling, in my opinion. I’m heading back to my office to close up; you can stay here and familiarize yourself with your patrol patterns, the floors, etcetera. Sound good?”

Anything sounded better than talking with this guy. “Yeah, I can figure it out. Anyone I have to call if I need help?”

Mike motioned to Hank’s belt, where a holster holding a walkie-talkie rested. “Stay on channel three and you should be fine. There’re five other guys on night shift here, so you should pass them at some point. Get t’ know ‘em! Say hello! I’m sure they’d answer any questions you might have.” He took a few steps toward the stairs leading back to the front of the aquarium. “I’ll still be here for about thirty more minutes, too, if you need me for any reason. Anything you need now?”

“I think I’m alright,” Hank said, waving Mike off. “I won’t bother you.” He cracked a shy smile. “For now.”

That brought out a small laugh from Mike, and as he headed off, Hank started to feel some of that camaraderie from before. 

The beginning of the night went along smoothly—great, in fact, since Hank was able to snag a dinner of a sub sandwich before the food court closed for the night. He didn’t start with his patrols yet on the count of it being almost too early to do so, so he settled himself in one of the plastic tables on the lower floors of the aquarium, near the merdroids’ tank. 

And already, the night took a turn.

“The fuck’re you lookin’ at?” Hank frowned, sudden weariness heavyset deep in his skin. A tiny frog stared back at him, blinking slow and quiet. Hank doubted the frog could hear him anyway, what with the glass separating its miniature habitat set in the wall and Hank’s plastic table, but anything was better than letting himself stew alone in his thoughts.

The frog blinked again, staring straight through Hank, either too captivated by the elevator music in its head or the ongoing diagnostics it ran nonstop as it ‘slept’. Not that Hank would be able to tell the difference. Not many could.

Hank shook his head and turned back to his meagre sandwich made more from day-old lettuce than anything substantial. Though only half of it laid in its nest of paper wrapping, Hank found he didn’t have much more of an appetite this late at night. 

With a sigh, Hank leaned back in his too-green plastic chair to watch a school of fish swim along the glass wall of the main tank. They moved as one shimmering silver unit, each of their bodies moving in captivating sync. 

Then they snapped apart, circling a figure that swam up to press its too-human hand against the glass and peer outside with too-bright eyes, blinking once, twice, as its pulsating blue tail coiled behind it. 

Hank sat frozen at his table, sandwich half-bitten in his mouth. The merdroid—the same one he’d seen activated earlier—stared at him as if  _ he _ were the one in the tank, all curiosity and wonder, like a child coming to the aquarium for the first time. 

Hank knew better.

When the thing waved at him, Hank shot up, sandwich forgotten in its wrapper, and hissed out a soft, “Fuck,” under his breath. 

He dashed to the nearest employee-only door and stumbled through the unfamiliar halls for the main tank’s power room. He didn’t have to go far, and he collected himself a bit more before opening the door to a compact room at the far back of the hall. Inside, the room was dark, lit only by the wall made of the merdroids’ shimmering tank. An array of glowing red lights flashed on the dashboard of a desk flush to the tank. In the middle of the dashboard rested a two-monitor computer, powered off, for now. 

Hank balked at the technological display, every button a mystery. He staggered to sit on the desk’s chair and, after only a moment’s hesitation, powered up the computer.

The blinding light from the monitors ripped a hiss from Hank’s throat. Even through the pain, he forced his eyes to adjust and was met with a password screen. Shit. 

Hank leaned back in the chair, hand hovering over his walkie-talkie, when he caught movement in the corner of his eye. Hesitant, Hank looked up at the glass in front of him and met that merdroid’s curious gaze. 

It was almost…surreal. The merdroid’s fins glowed a soft blue, its tail swaying behind itself and pulsing with the same colors. For a moment, Hank couldn’t look away. 

And then, the spell was broken, Hank jolting in his seat as a static-filled voice came through his walkie-talkie. 

_ “I’m heading out,” _ came Mike’s voice.  _ “It’s all locked up for you guys. Goodnight!” _ And with a click, the voice was gone.

When Hank looked up, the merdroid hadn’t swum away. Instead, it had somehow gotten closer, its face trying to peer around the monitors, the light catching on its far-too-human face. Hank gulped. 

And then, the thing opened its mouth and started to make noise—strange, inhuman noises, like a dolphin, clicks and squeaks that carried through the glass to Hank’s ears. They were slow, specific, one low click followed by four rapid squeaks. 

Hank gulped, and it almost seemed like on that low click, the merdroid’s lips were trying to form the word ‘don’t’. 

A slow, slow drop of frozen sweat rolled down Hank’s spine and his heartbeat pulsed in his throat and he saw the merdroid’s too-long nails that came to a sharp point, its eyes no longer curious, no—Hank realized it now, it was  _ hungry. _

And then Hank sucked in a deep, deep, deep breath, and the image was gone, replaced by a creature expressing far too much concern than it should be capable of. But Hank ignored it for now, instead focusing on heaving air into his heated lungs and finding the damn switch to power off that merdroid. 

He fumbled around in the dark, searching through the blinking red lights for the labels on the buttons and switches. None of them really made much sense, all the labels in a two-letter and number shorthand. After a while, Hank just gave up and decided to get asking for help over with. 

He brought the walkie-talkie to his lips and at the beep, said, “Hey I, uh, don’t know what to do about this one, uh…merdroid still active in the main tank. Over.”

A peppy, feminine voice answered back,  _ “It’s the new guy! Thought you’d never call!” _

“Uh, yeah, hi. I kinda need some help over here—”

_ “Oh shush, leave Connor alone, he’s always up around this time.” _

Connor? Hank allowed himself to meet the merdroid’s eyes and the movement of the water inside its tank, for a moment, was the only sound in the room. 

_ “Hello? New guy?” _

Hank flinched, almost letting the walkie-talkie drop onto the ground. “Ah, fuck, uh— What? Over.”

A static-broken laugh came from the other end.  _ “Just wanted to check if you were still there. The name’s Zelda. I’m not really busy—that is, awake, during the days, so I’m usually more happy to be awake during these shifts than some of these other guys, so you don’t have to be afraid of asking me anything! Got it?”  _ And almost as an afterthought, she added,  _ “Over.” _

“Yeah, yeah. Got it.” Hank glanced back to the tank, nothing but a stream of bubbles the only evidence the merdroid—Connor—had been there. With a frown, Hank leaned back in his seat and let himself relax, his pounding heart evening out with each passing minute. “So, Connor…it can just stay powered on this whole time? Over.”

_ “Yeah, the merdroids are programmed to power off at a certain time, but Connor didn’t come with that, I guess? I dunno, some of us find it more endearing than others.” _ Endearing?  _ “And besides, I don’t think any of us have had to recharge him or anything, so he’s pretty efficient. So nothing to worry about! Over.” _

“Huh. If you say so.” Hank hefted himself up from his seat and let his lingering panic fade as he left the room and headed back down the hall. “Well, thanks for, uh, helping me out. You used to manage this tank? Over.”

Zelda hummed in affirmation.  _ “You, sir, are the man who promoted me from ‘newbie’ status to, well, not that. So thanks, haha. But anyway, I gotta head back to my patrols. Sounds like you should, too, so hope I see you around! Good luck! Over.” _

“Yeah, um…thanks.” Hank pocketed his walkie-talkie as he emerged from the employee area and back at the underground viewing area for the tank. He let himself clean up his cold sandwich in silence for a moment, some of his doubts about this new job dissipating, even if he did have to guard a tank full of artificial creatures. At least most of them were powered off. 

Connor, though? Hank wasn’t sure what he was gonna do about that. A machine made for entertainment—children’s, especially. A friendly creature that waves at those it sees. Of course it would. 

Well. Hank supposed he’d have to get used to the thing at some point. Not that he wanted to, but anything would be better than being in a constant state of fear around the thing. Hank took out his flashlight and, as he started his rounds, Connor trailed behind him, a stream of bubbles in its wake.


	2. Beneath the Surface

Though there were, of course, perks to a new job, Hank had to say he still preferred his old one. Of course he preferred his superiority, his title as Lieutenant, and his pay, but he especially preferred not having a human-sized fish following behind him like a lost puppy. 

A few days into his first week and Connor hadn’t done much other than watch Hank with the best of its ability, since some of Hank’s routes took stairs that didn’t have a sight on the merdroid’s tank, or went behind other exhibits for smaller creatures. It sure tried, though, its nature as curious as it was annoying. 

Now, Hank walked alongside Connor’s tank’s railing, aiming his flashlight around corners of paths to other parts of the aquarium and listening for anything suspicious. Which was difficult considering Connor kept splashing up water with every movement of its tail.

“Don’t you have anything fuckin’ better to do?” Hank muttered at the merdroid, trying to shoo it away with a wave of his hand. It just stared at him, and with its lower half beneath the water and if not for the glowing blue LED at its temple, it would be so, so easy to mistake it for a human. 

Connor clicked back, a mere imitation of something Hank would be able to understand. 

“Fine, at least watch my back while you’re there, huh?” Hank kept his complaints under his breath as he continued the giant circle around this stupid tank. Who needed a tank this big? Maybe Mike could box up the merdroids and put some more whales here. At least whales would make more use of the space than Connor and its unseen friends seemed to do. 

More water splashed against the glass railing and Hank spun around, jaw set. Connor only stared back, expressionless, its spiny dorsal fin poking out from the water’s surface like a dolphin’s would. Or maybe more like a shark’s. 

After a moment, Hank turned back around, and again Connor pushed a wave to break against the railing.

Now Hank got it. Connor was messing with him. 

He stomped toward the railing and gripped it with white knuckles, wishing he could put this stupid machine in its place. “Listen here you little shit—”

Connor let out a squeak before diving underwater, hiding from Hank’s words. Its glowing eyes in the darkness only served to annoy Hank further, but Hank heaved a heavy sigh and stepped away from the railing. It wouldn’t do him any good to be this affected by a haywire aquarium attraction. Maybe he could just skip this part of his patrols and do some of the more secluded ones for some peace. 

Though the water shifted as Connor’s head broke through the surface, Hank didn’t bother turning back as he headed up some stairs to a different exhibit. Faux plants and foliage littered the rocks and decorated the pathways that branched from multiple areas: the whales, fish from Asia, South America, and Africa, and the elevator that led to the second-floor dolphin show tank seating. Each path fused into the one that led to Connor’s tank, and Hank had to wonder just how many people Connor and the rest of the merdroids saw each day. 

Despite the multiple paths he could take, Hank found himself heading back down to the underwater viewing floor. If he were lucky, Connor would keep searching for him above water without ever noticing he’d headed lower. Not to mention, someone really had to fix Connor somehow. Hank couldn’t focus when that thing kept distracting him—every splash could be an intruder, every click louder than a possible far-off voice. Though, he supposed Connor couldn’t understand that, as much as a machine could understand anything. 

Even so, Hank supposed the worst part of this job was the unrelenting silence and the heightened noises that followed. Each of his footsteps on the black carpeted floor seemed so loud compared to the gentle bubbling of the pipes hidden behind walls and under floors or the soft croaking of frogs and chirps of crickets in miniature tanks. In a way it was soothing, if Hank didn’t think too much. He always tried not to think too much.

Connor’s blue glow at the surface of its tank flickered a rapid one, two, three, and it dove deeper in the tank, zipping alongside the underground level’s wall, scanning as its coloration pulsed from blue to a blinding yellow. 

“The hell…?” Hank covered his eyes, squinting to try and see through to the writhing merdroid pressing itself against the glass. “Connor, what the fuck?” He aimed his flashlight at Connor’s face—give it a taste of its own damn medicine—and Connor recoiled, its glow—bioluminescence—dulling, if slightly. It wasn’t making a sound.

Connor motioned with its right hand to its hip area, where artificial flesh met gray plastic scales and the glowing lines down its fish body. It then pointed to Hank and made the motion again, and God, did Hank hate this game of charades. 

“Alright, alright!” Hank glanced at his hand and— His flashlight. Brow furrowed, he clicked his flashlight off and holstered it, Connor giving him a satisfied grin in return. What was it trying to get at?

At least now, Connor’s luminescence had dulled to just a calming yellow-blue. It motioned for Hank to follow, pointing him in the direction of the employee rooms. 

Uncertainty pooled in Hank’s gut, but he did nothing to stop himself as he followed Connor’s lead, parting only to enter the employee-only hall with its dozen rooms. Hank’s breathing echoed in the hall, as did his heartbeat, everything too loud for him to understand why Connor brought him here in the first place. 

And then he saw the door to the maintenance room, open by just a narrow crack. A wave of dread crashed against Hank’s chest, trying to push him back from the door, but Hank stood firm in the face of the storm and, hand hovering over his baton, pressed his shoulder against the door, it sliding open with a soft creak. 

This room, like when Hank explored the power room, was lit only by the tanks within it. Unlike the power room, none of the walls were part of Connor’s tank; instead, Connor gained access through a large tube, the merdroid poking his head up from a hole in the floor and watching Hank with an almost calculating gaze, his golden bioluminescence like a lamp that brought a brighter glow to the whole area. Scattered across the floor was broken glass that glinted in the pulsating light, and Hank took slow, careful steps to not crunch them under his boot. 

Water glistened on everything Hank could see, the tanks, save for Connor’s tube, broken and dripping more liquid onto the ground in large puddles, the sound of each drop echoing far too loud in the room. Hank found it hard to believe the presence he felt in this room was only Connor’s eyes staring holes into his back.

As Hank stepped around the desk in the middle of the room, his gaze caught on a small, multicolored fish splashing in a puddle at the base of one of the tanks. Silent, he knelt to the floor and scooped the poor thing in his hands, then opened the top of an unbroken container and let it slip from his hand to the water. 

After checking the rest of the room to ensure it was all clear, Hank fumbled for his walkie-talkie and said into it, “I need backup in the merdroid tank’s maintenance room on B1. There’s broken glass everywhere; signs of a break-in. Everyone near that location keep an eye out for any intruders. Over.”

A rapid tapping shot a tremor through Hank’s body and the walkie-talkie fell, sliding on the slick floor and coming to a halt under the desk. Hank hissed out a, “Shit,” and snapped to look at Connor. “What the fuck is it?”

Connor pointed to a panel on the side of the tube, tapping the tank again, urgency in its every action. Hank heaved a broken sigh with what little breath he had and examined the panel as best as he could through Connor’s muffled clicks and squeaks. There were only a handful of switches and buttons on the thing—Hank paid the most attention to the fabled big red button, which Connor seemed to be motioning to. 

Well, he didn’t have much time to speculate the consequences, as it was. 

Once Hank pressed the button, a window in Connor’s tube slid to the side and Hank stumbled back as Connor hauled itself up and over the edge, a low groan spilling from its throat as its colors turned from gold to yellow-blue. 

“The-e-e,” Connor shrieked out, and a glacier crawled up and up Hank’s back, turning into sharp, sharp claws that dug into his shoulders. “Up! The-ey’re up!” 

Connor’s pleading, desperate face, despite its horrific speech, brought the feeling back to Hank’s limbs and he didn’t bother wasting time on asking if Connor was even right or how it even knew that— Hank dashed out of the room, out of the hall, out into the viewing area, up the stairs— 

He gasped for air as he looked around, the light of flashlights in every corner of the massive room. Everything stilled— Hank’s heart pounded in his chest, in his ears. Only a moment passed before it cleared enough for him to hear the creaking and groaning of something above him.

Hanging from the ceiling was a huge public catwalk not put away for the night, and, on that catwalk, were two hooded figures and a writhing merdroid. 

Hank dashed for the closest stairs and each squeak of the metal steps in the oh-so-quiet showroom grated against his ears, until—

“—gotta go!”

“Run!”

Hank hefted himself to the top and, at the top of his lungs, yelled, “They’re over here!” before setting off for the intruders. They tried picking up the merdroid and struggled under its weight, its tail shining a searing red. Each passing second lasted longer than the last, and Hank could only watch as the merdroid opened a panel on the side of its tail, and detached the whole thing from the waist down.

Hank’s blood pounded in his ears and the scaffolding swam beneath his feet, exhaustion catching up to him far too fast. The path ahead branched off into two directions, and the closer one dashed to the right while the second intruder took off, top half of a merdroid in his arms. Hank stumbled to avoid the giant mer tail in his path as he gained ground on the first intruder, his lungs searing with heat as he tackled the intruder to the scaffolding. 

The catwalk swayed with their weight, the joints of the thing groaning with strain. Hank’s head hung off the edge of the catwalk and the edges of his vision spun as he stared down into the water far too many feet below. 

Far too blurry for a clear reflection, a shadow passed above the tiny image of Hank’s head in the water, and Hank sucked in a gasp as a hand gripped his shoulder, hefted him up, and spun him around—

And, in the quiet of the aquarium, Hank fell. 

Hank felt the splash more than heard it, his ears popping with the force of the water hitting his body. Bubbles—from his fall or his escaping breath, he didn’t know—gurgled around his ears and clouded his vision. Everything burned: his limbs, his chest, his throat, his head. The searing, raw heat clawed its way under every inch of his skin, even as he sank lower and lower, even as he struggled to kick off his shoes, tear off his gear, _ swim. _

Shit. Holy fucking shit. Hank just wanted _ air, _ anything to ease the rawness of his throat, anything to stop the burning in his nose and his mouth and his lungs and—

A yellow-blue glow. A vibration through the water, a mimicry of sound. Hank forced his eyes open and met Connor’s, and was helpless as Connor coiled around him like a snake about to eat its prey. 

Yet Connor’s touch was gentle, his hands warm, somehow, as he cupped Hank’s cheeks and brought his lips to Hank’s.

A rush of air. 

Hank gasped, coughed, more bubbles exploding from his mouth into the water. Connor held him close and Hank clutched him back, heaving for breath, coughing up water and choking on more water each time he broke away. But before he could comprehend, Hank broke the surface and laid on the concrete bank, gasping and shaking, cold and fragile.

Connor curled up next to him, letting out soft coos as he ran his hand through Hank’s soaked hair. “Alright,” he said, the syllables croaky but low, gentle, as though Hank would break at anything more.

“Thank you,” Hank whispered like a breeze. The moonlight glinted on Connor’s dark hair, the sheen almost like an added celestial glow to his features. 

Connor gave him a pained smile. “Rest.” He patted the ground, then pointed to the other end of the aquarium, shouts coming from other areas of the floor. “Not done.”

Hank had to force a laugh at that and sat up with a grunt. “They’ll be okay without me. I think I’ve done enough.” He drew in a deep gulp of air, savoring the taste of it. “How’d you know those fuckers were up here?”

“Connect.” Connor tapped the LED on his temple. “See-e through.” 

“See through others?”

Connor nodded. “The-ey took.”

A moment passed as something clicked into place. Hank shot onto his side, hacking for breath as he said, “Can you still see through that merdroid?”

At that, Connor’s lips twitched downward, and he shook his head. “Disconnect.” He motioned cutting his tail off. “Deviant,” he said, quiet, like a secret, something cursed, unclean. 

“Deviant.” Hank tested the word on his tongue, something he’d heard but not put to use. His thoughts spun, from either too much to comprehend or too long without oxygen. He lifted his hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. “God, I need to take my break.”

Connor hummed, as though in agreement. “Away from water.”

“Heh, yeah. Kinda hard to do that here.” With another deep inhale, Hank lifted himself on shaky feet, despite Connor’s worried squeaking. “Shaddup, I’m fine now, Christ. I gotta go check on the others.” He lumbered to the tank’s gate, then unlocked it and headed out to the floor. 

When he looked back, Connor keeping watch as he climbed a small set of stairs to the rest of the aquarium, everything was quiet again, still. Ethereal. Hank could almost imagine the breeze shifting the faux leaves of the pathways, the scent of salt in the air. Connor just smiled, somber, as he slipped back into the water without a sound, the ripples of his entry lasting for only a few moments before they faded.

Hank shook his head. What strange creatures.


End file.
